


good at touching you (i'm not some mister, i know everything)

by catbeans



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: M/M, Trans Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catbeans/pseuds/catbeans
Summary: Geralt’s eyes had drooped almost shut with only those little shivers to show he was still awake by the time Dandelion gently tipped Geralt’s head to get a better look at him; his other hand lowered with the backs of his fingers along Geralt’s jaw, his thumb skirting over Geralt’s bottom lip just before wide-blown pupils narrowed slightly to focus when Geralt looked up, almost parallel again.“Do you want more?”Geralt’s mouth opened slightly with a deep breath in but nothing following it for just long enough, just a couple seconds, but.“Can I give you more?”“Yes.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 188





	good at touching you (i'm not some mister, i know everything)

**Author's Note:**

> i know i have that other fic from before i started the books where i made jaskier trans but these are totally unrelated. i have my netflix witcher fic and my book witcher fic and they dont know each other. i just saw where it mentions hormones being used in making witchers into witchers and i was like FUCK yeah

Geralt shook his hair loose at his shoulders, reaching back to bunch the last couple inches in his fist with a small set of shears in his other hand.

It had started to tangle, the ends growing a little ratty, harder to let down without it yanking at his scalp when he needed to get something bloody or muddy out of it after a job. He leaned to tip his head over the stream still rushing from the rain a couple nights earlier, his eyes losing focus slightly as he lined up his hands and kept steady to keep the clippings off of his clothes. He didn’t straighten up until he shook out his hair again over the water and rinsed his hand before tying his hair back up.

“I think you might need to be next, Roach.”

It took him longer than he would have liked to pin down what wasn’t  _ right. _

It prickled at him, a new scar, he thought, maybe, something on Geralt’s face, or his clothes were no longer fitting properly since the last time they had seen each other—he wondered what Geralt had been eating, it was never enough—and it wasn’t until Geralt got up from their table for a spoon, until he turned, that Dandelion’s nose wrinkled a little.

The gall.

“I have wondered,” he said when Geralt came back, “how long it would be before something snagged that.”

Geralt’s eyebrow stayed raised even after Dandelion pointedly looked and tilted his chin towards Geralt’s hair.

“It just seems easy to grab.”

Geralt’s arm shifted, almost a gesture towards his head before his browline smoothed out and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Hasn’t happened yet.”

Dandelion had the impulse to crane his neck to get a better look before he stopped himself, knowing he wouldn’t be able to with Geralt sitting across from him, but he was certain. “You’re telling me you did that to yourself.”

Geralt shrugged. “It was tangling.”

“You can’t go around looking like that.”

“It looks alright.”

“You’ve bought a mirror, now?”

The corner of Geralt’s mouth turned down that time.

“Would you like me to take care of it?”

He didn’t say it like much of a question and Geralt knew that it wasn’t one. 

He couldn’t justify a tub, but Dandelion was firm on a basin, at least, nudging Geralt to get undressed from the waist up as soon as the door to their shared room was shut behind them.

Geralt hesitated for a second with his shirt not quite bunched and his hand not quite to the bed where he meant to leave it. Dandelion didn’t look up from taking out a cloth and his own pair of scissors, still shiny and only about the length of his palm, his head bobbing slightly to a song stuck in his head. Geralt put the shirt down.

“If you’ll just—over there.” Dandelion gestured to where he had left the basin on top of a chipped and weathered trunk, another jug of water next to it. “A table wouldn’t have hurt, but…”

Geralt frowned a little as he sat back against the trunk. Rooms with their own tables were money they didn’t have much of to spare.

“I don’t really think all of this is necessary.”

“That looks like it needs a wash anyway,” Dandelion said as he came to sit on the trunk next to Geralt’s shoulder, pulling the basin closer, scissors still on the bed. “Lean your head back.”

He did, eyes already closed when Dandelion took his headband; the first heavy splash from the jug was warm running down his temples and into the basin before Dandelion poured a little more slowly to soak through. There wasn’t anything for Geralt to see when he opened one eye a crack at the  _ pop _ of a small cork being pulled, something sleepy and not-quite-sweet spreading through the air like an inkblot just before the sound of Dandelion’s hands rubbing together. It didn’t prickle in his nose like he realized he had been bracing for.

Geralt heard the fabric of Dandelion’s shirt shifting a moment ahead of both hands combing through Geralt’s hair, his thumbs rubbing up from the base of Geralt’s skull with his other fingers scritching slowly forward to his hairline. He had to think to smooth out the scrunch he could feel between his eyebrows. Dandelion took his time circling past Geralt’s temples and behind his ears, a few seconds of absently rubbing at the top of Geralt’s head before he reached to the side.

Geralt’s skin fizzled as if his medallion should be twitching as he stiffly held his hands together in his lap. It stayed perfectly still.

One warm hand still cupped the back of Geralt’s head as Dandelion poured over him again, and then he was even more thorough than before; he squeezed Geralt’s hair between his fingers with a hum that almost snapped Geralt’s eyes open before he was stopped by a trickle running down the side of his nose.

Dandelion kept his eyes open on Geralt’s. He could see the shifts under Geralt’s eyelids, quick to follow any little sound, the tense wrinkle between his eyebrows that took until Dandelion’s fingers felt pruny and Geralt’s hair looked almost fluffy around the roots to finally smooth. His breathing looked a little less measured, too.

“I’m getting the scissors now.”

Dandelion hadn’t really noticed how heavily Geralt had been leaning into his hands until the weight in his palms shifted, and Geralt hadn’t, either.

He opened his eyes again as Dandelion crossed the room.

The scissors were small and loosely held point-down in his hand; by the time Dandelion had turned around to come back to him, Geralt had thought without thinking of more ways than it was worth counting that they could be used on him, even more than that from behind, and he couldn’t picture a single one being carried out. Dandelion sat on the trunk next to him again.

Geralt tried a little too late to stifle a shiver when Dandelion carded up through the back of his hair to the top, loosening it from the water still weighing it down with a little shimmy so it lay flat along his shoulders. He kept his eyes open then with his head facing forward and didn’t follow the instinctive impulse to glance back at the  _ snick _ of the scissors sliding open, the basin being pushed to the side.

“This was almost just a damned shame,” Dandelion said, his voice mostly covering the softer sound of the first couple cuts, small clumps pinched between his fingers. “It would be a crime to ruin this.”

Geralt snorted but kept his head still while Dandelion moved to the next section, gently pulling it straight and pinching again.

“You’ve got nice hair.”

Geralt took the excuse of not wanting to distract someone with a sharp object so close to his ear to not say anything.

Dandelion made quick work of it, not much to do, less time than he had spent washing Geralt’s hair spent snipping behind his head before Dandelion stood up.

“Now, just…”

He crouched down for a second, and frowned, and shook his head to himself before nudging Geralt’s legs straight to straddle his thighs.

It was only a few snips there, too; he cupped his free hand at Geralt’s cheek to catch the stray hairs, his eyes a little narrowed and his nose a little wrinkled as he evened the shorter tufts framing Geralt’s forehead. Geralt hadn’t bothered with it the first time, didn’t give much thought to it unless it started getting in his eyes. Dandelion didn’t react past a slightly deeper inhale when Geralt moved his arms around Dandelion’s waist without anywhere else to put them.

“Don’t get too comfortable, I’m almost finished.”

“Mhm.”

Dandelion swished a hair off of Geralt’s cheekbone with his thumb a couple seconds before looking at him properly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he dropped his hands in his lap.

“That’s much better.”

“Thank you.”

Geralt was about to follow when Dandelion stood up, but Dandelion’s eyebrows scrunched with another frown, a hand at Geralt’s shoulder keeping him from getting any farther.

“I said almost.”

“And then you finished,” Geralt said, looking back as Dandelion got back onto the trunk; he was already reaching for another corked bottle. “That’s all the hair I’ve got for you.”

“If you’re cutting your hair with a—what was that, your sword? A knife? Then, maybe.” The second bottle open smelled sweeter but just as softly as the first. “I’m not doing that.”

“I didn’t use a—”

He cut off in a faintly choked sound when Dandelion combed all ten fingers through his hair again with a placating hum. 

“No need to get the itchy bits all over you. Lean back for me.”

The itchy bits could justify the next couple pours over his head into the basin. It could justify Dandelion’s fingers running through the length of his hair to catch any persistent loose strands, the cloth swiped over the back of his neck and behind his ears while he kept his eyes firmly closed, and he didn’t open them until Dandelion tapped the back of his head to let him know he could straighten up.

It couldn’t justify Dandelion’s thumb rubbing over the base of Geralt’s skull like when they had started, his other hand brushing Geralt’s hair behind his ear before gently tangling in the roots again.

“Geralt.”

Dandelion’s fingers shifted to follow Geralt’s head tilting back to look up at him, rubbing over where his hair was parted a little off-center.

“When was the last time that someone just touched you like this?”

Geralt’s eyebrows twitched up, a slow breath in while he thought for a second that he let out in a short puff.

Dandelion hummed again and slid his fingers up through the sides of Geralt’s hair to bunch at the top, his face still almost parallel to Geralt’s; with someone else’s hearing, without looking to see Dandelion’s mouth move, he might have missed such a quiet, “I’ll fix that, too.”

Geralt swallowed.

Dandelion broke eye contact to run his fingers down the length of Geralt’s hair again, a couple seconds before the last pour into the basin gave Geralt the excuse to, too. The scissors had slipped from his mind until they clinked when Dandelion took the cloth again to scrunch his hair dry. 

He waited for Dandelion to say that he was finished; the wood of the trunk squeaked as the basin was pushed to the side, and he waited; a hand at the back of his head nudged him to straighten his neck slightly, but it stayed in his hair as Dandelion scooted over and shifted to sit cross-legged with Geralt’s head leaning back against his calves.

Geralt waited, until he could hear the grin in Dandelion humming again when he shuddered all the way up his spine at Dandelion’s fingers rubbing over his scalp. Dandelion started behind his ears again, up in slow, tiny circles that drew out another little shiver on his way back to the top of Geralt’s head, and then down again, his fingers scritching at the back of Geralt’s head with his thumbs at the nape of his neck.

Geralt felt  _ gooey. _

He wasn’t sure when his hands had gone so loose in his lap, or his shoulders, his breathing slow and shallow and his eyes less firmly stuck on the opposite wall. His skin felt warm. He would have slumped all the way back without Dandelion’s fingers spreading out to cover the sides of his head, and Dandelion knew; he had seen Geralt with his back to a wall in a room with little attention paid to him, a morning after a brothel, close to sleep with a full belly and a clear sky to spend a night under, and there had always still been something. His jaw never seemed to relax all the way, his eyes quick even with a calm posture, the tension wrinkling his eyebrows, and Dandelion found himself liking the way Geralt’s mouth looked without that tension very much.

Geralt’s eyes had drooped almost shut with only those little shivers to show he was still awake by the time Dandelion gently tipped Geralt’s head to get a better look at him; his other hand lowered with the backs of his fingers along Geralt’s jaw, his thumb skirting over Geralt’s bottom lip just before wide-blown pupils narrowed slightly to focus when Geralt looked up, almost parallel again.

“Do you want more?”

Geralt’s mouth opened slightly with a deep breath in but nothing following it for just long enough, just a couple seconds, but.

“Can I give you more?”

“Yes.”

Geralt’s hand was already reaching up and back for Dandelion’s hair as Dandelion leaned over him. He missed just slightly, enough for Dandelion to catch his hand with a teasing hum that Geralt could feel against his lips, and Dandelion’s thumb kept rubbing at the center of his palm as he pulled back again.

“Let’s not waste the bed.”

It wasn’t much; Dandelion still didn’t miss the little wriggle to get settled when Geralt lay down, one of the few small comforts he allowed himself, the straw and feathers plush after more than enough nights with just a mat on the dirt. Dandelion  _ had _ seen the same looseness to Geralt’s face, he realized, even if it had been brief, but it didn’t harden again as Dandelion swung his leg over Geralt’s waist to straddle his hips a little higher than the first time.

Geralt’s eyebrow and the corner of his mouth twitched up, his hands sliding up Dandelion’s thighs, almost reaching his hips before Dandelion caught them again. Geralt didn’t have time to look disappointed before Dandelion loosely,  _ easily _ pushed his hands to the mattress by his shoulders, the twitch spreading into a little more of a smile.

“Is that how it is?”

“I don’t remember you having an answer for me.”

Geralt frowned. He could feel the calluses on Dandelion’s fingertips against his knuckles. Dandelion let go but didn’t take his hands off of Geralt as he leaned back, passing up along Geralt’s arms where the skin was more sensitive to his chest and then down to his belly.

“I think you deny yourself,” Dandelion said, his thumb absently circling around Geralt’s bellybutton. His other hand shifted closer to Geralt’s hip and again, “When was the last time someone just touched you?”

Again, Geralt didn’t have an answer. Dandelion didn’t stop him that time when he moved his hands to Dandelion’s thighs with a short huff, but his scalp still tingled, and Dandelion’s hands were warm.

_ “That’s _ just a damned shame, too,” Dandelion said, a wide smile and crinkly eyes cutting through the stiffness in the air that his question had brought. Geralt decided it was just in the air. “Your hair I could almost forgive, maybe, but…”

Geralt hadn’t meant to let his breath hitch at Dandelion’s hand dragging up again with the heel of his palm rubbing gently at Geralt’s sternum, planting him even more firmly against the bed to match the weight at his hips. Dandelion’s smile grew a little wider.

“Yeah…”

His voice was barely a mumble before he palmed up and over Geralt’s chest with a squeeze and a low hum; one hand stayed, the other shifting up with the first hesitation Geralt had seen in him that night, watching Geralt’s face, before the backs of Dandelion’s fingers brushed over the scar marring his neck. Just the backs of his fingers. Dandelion only flattened his hand again a little below Geralt’s collarbone.

It wasn’t just his scalp tingling anymore.

Dandelion’s hand still at his chest pressed a little more heavily as he leaned down, starting at Geralt’s jaw and kissing over the gnarled skin no differently than he kissed above or below it. His hips wriggled a little in Geralt’s hands when Geralt’s grip tightened at Dandelion mouthing over the crook of his neck. Dandelion pressed almost flat against him, his thighs squeezing Geralt’s sides, a satisfied hum thrumming at Geralt’s throat when he couldn’t help holding his arms around Dandelion’s waist.

Dandelion kept touching even with barely any room to between them, squeezing up Geralt’s sides and his chest again, and then he didn’t lean back very far; a curl still tickled Geralt’s forehead, Dandelion’s eyes close to crossing before he cradled both hands around Geralt’s face with his fingertips brushing along the finer hair at Geralt’s temples.

When he hummed again it was muffled against Geralt’s mouth, easier than the first time at their upside-down angle and just as warm as his hands. He kept one hand at Geralt’s jaw, his thumb at Geralt’s cheekbone, the other slipping up to brush a damp tuft back from his forehead before tangling in as much of Geralt’s hair as he could reach.

Geralt almost expected a pull and didn’t get one. He got a damp bottom lip, another shift in his lap, Dandelion’s fingertips rubbing along his scalp; it was already coaxing another shiver before Dandelion lowered his other hand from Geralt’s jaw to his chest, and he couldn’t help it or the rumbly sound low in his throat at Dandelion’s thumb circling over his nipple with a smile curling at Geralt’s lips.

“Do you like that?” Dandelion asked. He barely pulled back to do it, noses still touching, his hair almost in Geralt’s eye until he tossed his head slightly. He didn’t stop circling his thumb and his eyes crinkled a little again when Geralt’s flickered shut for a second.

Geralt turned his head to catch Dandelion’s lips again in place of a response. He didn’t get much of a kiss before his breath caught with a faint sound he would never admit to making, shivering up into Dandelion’s fingertips at his chest and rubbing at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me.”

Geralt nodded and bit the inside of his cheek; he was glad a couple seconds later that he had, ready to stifle another—no, no, he didn’t sound like that—when Dandelion shifted down, only a few quick kisses along Geralt’s neck on his way to the other side of Geralt’s chest.

“Oh—”

“Tell me, Geralt.”

Geralt had to stop himself from squeezing Dandelion’s hip too tightly, his lips moving over Geralt’s nipple bringing another shudder, and Dandelion wasn’t letting up on him.

“I like it,” Geralt relented, felt Dandelion smile, “I want it, I want your mouth, Dandelion, come here.”

“Which is it?”

Geralt smacked a hand over his face with a shaky breath in.

He felt a soft laugh more than he heard it before the tip of Dandelion’s tongue made his hips jerk. He dropped his hand to rest at Dandelion’s thigh, just a little squeeze when Dandelion’s lips pursed in almost a kiss before coming up to kiss him properly; Geralt could still feel him smiling.

Dandelion kissed him without any hurry, and kissed him, and kissed him, a hand cupping Geralt’s jaw, the other taking its time palming up Geralt’s belly to his chest to rub with his thumb and forefinger again. Geralt almost could have missed the little shift of Dandelion’s hips in his lap behind the shuddery feeling from Dandelion’s fingers, the softness of his mouth—sharp when he wanted it to be but not then, not even when he was teasing about Geralt’s hair—but the tingling over his skin had steadied into such a nice thrum and he  _ wanted— _

“Dandelion.”

He could feel Dandelion’s eyes on him as Dandelion kissed the corner of his mouth, his jaw, Dandelion’s nose brushing over his beard on the way to Geralt’s throat. Dandelion almost hummed again, almost teasing, but it cut off with a hitch at Geralt’s hand sliding up his thigh to rub the heel of his palm at the front seam of Dandelion’s pants.

It was just for a couple seconds before he moved up to Dandelion’s doublet, only a light tug before Dandelion batted his hand away and leaned back to sit straight. His lips kissed to such a nice pink that Geralt would have liked to kiss him again if he had been close enough; instead, Dandelion flattened his hand at Geralt’s chest, his hips shifting a little more intentionally, before he lifted his other hand to start unbuttoning.

He didn’t stop Geralt from reaching for his hips, or a little higher when Dandelion shrugged out of his doublet and stripped his undershirt over his head. His skin was soft and warm under Geralt’s hands, rubbing his thumbs over Dandelion’s hipbones, earning him another little twitch before Dandelion glanced away.

Geralt frowned when Dandelion got up from his lap, but only for a moment to leave his clothes with the rest of his things before he came back to the bed. It creaked slightly under Geralt as he shifted his thighs a little wider for Dandelion to settle between, a full feeling in his chest with Dandelion’s pressed flush against his and Dandelion’s mouth so soft on his again.

It was a while before Dandelion broke away for a deeper breath in, his hand sliding down Geralt’s side with his nose bumping Geralt’s cheek. Geralt tilted his head to kiss him again, but Dandelion leaned back first, the tip of his tongue poking between his teeth the way it usually did when he was thinking; it wasn’t hard to guess what about with how Dandelion’s hips pressed undeniably against his.

It wasn’t exactly what Dandelion was thinking about. It was mostly, in fairness, but it was how to get there, too, past the resignation that Dandelion might have once mistaken for stubbornness. Geralt wasn’t the kindest to himself. Dandelion was in a mood to make him feel  _ nice. _

“Can I give you more?”

Geralt nodded and Dandelion didn’t tell him to say it that time.

Dandelion gave a soft hum as he kept moving his hand lower, close enough to kiss but with just their noses touching as he flattened his fingers between Geralt’s legs. He wanted to see it, the way Geralt’s bottom lip twitched on a deep inhale, his eyes flickering almost shut, the slight clench of his jaw to stifle a sound that Dandelion wasn’t giving up on yet. Dandelion kept rubbing his fingers firmly and steadily as he kissed the corner of Geralt’s mouth, his jaw, down his throat and lower, until he looked up with a smile that made his eyes crinkle and Geralt’s cheeks look a little less deathly pallid. He just had to look closely.

Dandelion took his time again, just as thorough as he had been with Geralt’s head in his hands, nuzzling kisses along Geralt’s chest and his belly until there wasn’t a scar that Dandelion hadn’t passed over by the time he came to Geralt’s waistband. 

Dandelion had to lean back on his knees; Geralt pulled his legs up closer to himself, Dandelion already working at the front of his pants to tug them down.

The hair on Geralt’s legs fluffed up a little as Dandelion slid his hands up Geralt’s calves. He inspected a scar for a second that looked suspiciously mundane and accidental before pressing a kiss to Geralt’s knee, higher on his thigh, squeezing up along the other as he settled again on his belly between Geralt’s legs.

Dandelion decided that he had taken enough time.

A hand came down to Dandelion’s hair with a shiver when he shifted up the last few inches, but almost hesitantly, slow and not really much of a grab; it wasn’t much of a grab until Dandelion pursed his lips and sucked, winding his arms tightly around Geralt’s thighs, burying his face with a muffled hum. Then Geralt’s hand steadied at the back of Dandelion’s head.

Dandelion’s hair curled loosely between Geralt’s fingers as he shuddered a little against Dandelion’s mouth, Dandelion’s fingers gently digging into his inner thigh. There was barely any room to, Dandelion holding Geralt’s thighs so snug that his ears were almost covered but not enough to keep him from hearing a light groan above him when he settled into pursing his lips and dragging his tongue firmly over Geralt’s clit. 

Geralt’s heartbeat crept just, just a little less slowly as Dandelion kept mouthing at him, his breathing heavy between Geralt’s legs, a delighted hum at Geralt’s fingers tensing in his hair making Geralt shiver again with the faint buzz of it. He felt Dandelion grin at a soft groan he couldn’t bite back quickly enough and couldn’t think anything of it when Dandelion suddenly pursed his lips tighter. 

Dandelion didn’t let up from there, steady and steady and  _ there _ was Geralt’s other hand clapping over his mouth but still not effectively covering a moan; Dandelion couldn’t really see Geralt’s eyes when he looked up, but he could see the lift of Geralt’s chest with his breathing a little quicker than normal, each little tense, until Dandelion moved one hand from Geralt’s thigh to his hip with an encouraging squeeze for Geralt to rock against his mouth a little more.

Geralt let out another sound when his hand moved from over his mouth to Dandelion’s wrist, something about the softness to it against his sharp voice making Dandelion’s hips shift against the mattress. It wouldn’t be good for business for too many to hear it and that made Dandelion like getting to hear it more.

Geralt’s fingers were gentle in his hair, too, not pulling and not pushing him closer even as Geralt’s hips rocked against Dandelion’s mouth a little less evenly, just cupping the back of his head.

He didn’t think Geralt noticed when he let go of Dandelion’s wrist for Dandelion’s hand instead, his thighs tensing at Dandelion’s cheeks with another light groan as his fingers tightened in Dandelion’s hair just a little, too. 

“Dandelion.”

Terrible for business.

Dandelion gave Geralt’s fingers a squeeze and held tighter at Geralt’s thigh, his jaw beginning to ache slightly but without any care to it as Geralt’s hips twitched and he shivered and carded his fingers through Dandelion’s hair. 

Another little stifled sound, another twitch, and Geralt let out a deep breath in a puff that deflated his hand from Dandelion’s hair but not the other from Dandelion’s fingers. It was mostly Dandelion but Geralt still didn’t do anything about it. He didn’t move his mouth away yet, keeping warm between Geralt’s legs for a minute before eventually leaning his cheek against Geralt’s thigh.

He saw Geralt’s chest lift again on a deep inhale through his nose before Geralt tugged at his hand. Dandelion moved his other arm from around Geralt’s thigh to follow the pull towards him, but Geralt didn’t let go when he tried to. He needed that hand, his left just not quite the same and the front of his pants getting awfully snug, but Geralt just shifted up to prop himself not quite upright against the wall; Dandelion was certain he saw Geralt swallow a little when he glanced down between them and tilted his chin up slightly.

“Come here, Dandelion.”

Dandelion couldn’t help a shiver as he pushed himself up on his elbows to come back up to Geralt’s lap, but he didn’t follow the next tug at his waistband or the soft grunt before brushing the backs of his fingers over Geralt’s cheek on his way to Geralt’s hair. Any farther away and he wouldn’t have seen how Geralt’s eyes widened just slightly when he sucked the faintly salty taste from his bottom lip before leaning down to kiss him.

Geralt shuddered against him, looping his arm snugly around Dandelion’s waist. His other hand groped up along Dandelion’s thigh to his hip before squeezing between them to get to the front of Dandelion’s pants, didn’t get very far with it before Dandelion leaned back and up a little on his knees.

Another deep breath, slit pupils widening slightly as Dandelion unfastened his pants, Geralt’s hands both sliding up to his hips. Geralt was leaning low enough against the wall that he was already about face-level when Dandelion pulled his dick free and was almost jolted off balance when Geralt tugged him closer a little more suddenly than he had been expecting.

Geralt kept one hand at Dandelion’s hip with the other steadying the base of his dick to bring Dandelion into his mouth, his eyes already shut when Dandelion looked down with a shiver and a light,  _ “Mm.” _ Dandelion leaned one hand against the wall with the other right back to Geralt’s hair, impossible to miss the way Geralt’s breath caught before he ducked in closer to take Dandelion a little deeper.

It was almost cozy with Dandelion warm and close in front of him, Dandelion’s fingers tangling through his hair again and the soft buzz still tingling over his skin. The bed was comfortable and Geralt couldn’t help shivering when Dandelion moved his hand from the wall to cup his cheek, his thumb brushing over Geralt’s lip when he pulled back slightly for a short breath but not all the way. He didn’t think he could open his eyes just then.

Dandelion made it easy to follow the little shivers and soft mumbling of  _ that’s perfect _ and  _ your mouth, Geralt, look at you _ to Dandelion’s fingers tensing tighter in his hair, his breathing quicker and more uneven. Geralt wouldn’t open his eyes but Dandelion couldn’t have been made to look away from his cheeks  _ noticeably _ less deathly than before, even if just by a tinge, the rest of his features as softened as they could be with all his focus on his mouth and  _ “Oh—” _

Dandelion had to catch himself against the wall again when Geralt pulled him in with his hand at Dandelion’s hip until Geralt’s lips bumped his fingers at the base of Dandelion’s dick, but the hand in Geralt’s hair stayed put. Geralt stayed there for a few seconds, bobbing his head slightly before hollowing his cheeks as he pulled back. His breathing was heavy with his lips still pressed lightly to where his hand didn’t cover as he pumped his wrist a couple times before he opened his mouth again.

“Geralt.”

He looked up then; Dandelion saw the faint shift of his pupils adjusting to dim light after his eyes being closed, still more than enough light for him, enough that Dandelion couldn’t help a shiver at how Geralt  _ kept _ looking as he closed his lips again around Dandelion’s dick.

“Oh, you’re a fucking sight,” Dandelion murmured, his voice a little rougher than he had been meaning for, but he had been trying to keep still until Geralt tugged at the seat of his pants. The low, soft sound Geralt made when he started shifting his hips just slightly made him shiver again.

Geralt felt it. He held his other hand around Dandelion’s dick a little more tightly, a little faster, the twitch heavy on his tongue before,  _ “Geralt.” _

Geralt pulled back with a faint  _ pop _ and a deep breath when the back of his head lightly bumped the wall, not pausing with his hand over Dandelion’s dick; Dandelion was looking less at that than at Geralt’s lips damp and the slightest bit pink, his hair drying messily between Dandelion’s fingers and he just couldn’t make himself stop touching it—

He knew Geralt could have done a better job at catching his hand over the head of Dandelion’s dick before he came. He almost missed Geralt’s breath hitching at the warmth dripping a little down his neck, a drop at his collarbone, and he couldn’t help letting out a little choked sound at the sight of it.

Neither of them moved for a minute; Geralt only let his hand drop palm-up at his side, his eyebrow twitching but not unhappily when he glanced down at it. Dandelion’s fingers were still absently rubbing at Geralt’s scalp until his breathing slowed and Geralt looked up again with a nudge to his hip.

“I have to get—”

“No, you don’t.”

Dandelion might have tried to kiss him if he didn’t think he would lose his balance before getting up a little shakily from where he had been on his knees in front of Geralt, tugging his waistband up enough not to trip himself. A cloth he hadn’t used for Geralt’s hair was still close enough that he only had to go a few steps before settling back into Geralt’s lap, wiping over his chest and that spot at his collarbone first; he took Geralt’s wrist in his free hand, cleaning Geralt’s palm last and not letting entirely go when he looked at Geralt again.

The backs of Geralt’s fingers brushed up against Dandelion’s knee when Dandelion leaned in to kiss him thoroughly, generally finding it self-centered and mostly boring to end things more abruptly. Geralt was nice to kiss when he was still lax from coming earlier. Dandelion only broke off when he had to worry about biting a lip as he dropped to Geralt’s side, squished between him and the wall to shimmy out of his pants; he narrowed his eyes to toss them folded to the rest of his clothes before Geralt took them and did it instead, more accurately than Dandelion likely would have gotten.

“Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

“Give me some of the—”

“You’ve got it all bunched under you.”

“No, I—oh, it is. Get the lamp.”

Geralt got up with a short huff as he cracked his neck on his way to the fading lamp, wouldn’t have stayed lit much longer anyway, but he could hear Dandelion bundling himself up before he had turned back to the bed. He had to yank some of the blanket back for himself before they settled into Dandelion’s arm slung around Geralt’s waist to save some more room than they really needed to, but the bed was comfortable and Dandelion was warm with his nose a little squished against Geralt’s freshly messy hair. 

**Author's Note:**

> @przyjaciele on tumblr


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